Best read in original
Bringing home the cows
I’ve walked a fence-line many times with and without a sled.
My dog’s name was Laddie and of course my Laddie’s dead.
I’m sure the cows have passed on too and there’re others in their stead
Unless of course the field is gone and houses now there stand
With people that will never know how wonderful and grand
It feels to look at someone that once looked just like me
As I trudged through snow and pulled a sled past fields that used to be
And called, “Come boss,” and brought cows home as night was drawing nigh
But as long as memory serves me that scene will never die.